The Farther They Fall
by T'Riva's Sarek Sanctum
Summary: Kirk and Sarek get captured and try to survive a ruthless guard focused on Sarek.  Sarek/male, Sarek/Amanda, Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Uhura.
1. Chapter 1

**The Farther They Fall**

Author: T'Riva

Pairing: Sa/m, S/A, K, S, Mc, U

Warning: M

**NOTES:**

**Part One **(page 1-20) is violent, but this is mainly a story of dealing with that trauma.

**Part Two **(page 20-61) is not violent, except for some arguments, threats and flying Tiddly-Winks.

Two other of my stories are referenced in this story. One is "Lost & Found" that is up. The other is a long story called "Oh, But for Sanity," which is still being finished up.

**Acknowledgements**: I would like to thank Selek for the fabulous beta read.

**Disclaimer**: Paramount owns these guys; I just enjoy them for non-remunerative frolics.

**Summary**: Kirk and Sarek get captured and try to survive a ruthless guard focused on Sarek.

**Constructive criticism ALWAYS welcome!**

**PART ONE: Held Captive**

**Chapter 1**

Zeta-Kesar: Class M planet on the edge of the Neutral Zone near the _new_ border of the Romulan and Klingon Empires, now strategically located since the most recent incursion of Romulan forces into what had been Klingon territory.

Kirk felt his breath quicken at the implication. Surely they wouldn't…couldn't. But Sarek couldn't fight them; he had passed out sometime before Kirk was allowed in, and even if he could, he was far outnumbered, exhausted, chilled far beyond what a Vulcan could likely handle, and now, seriously injured. And there were the plentiful weapons jangling on every belt of the rebels-weapon of torture, likely happily used, given the opportunity.

But he had likely heard correctly**,** "…too pretty to waste this way, leave him for better things." The guards had laughed and asked if they might have a turn. The officer had replied that the ambassador should be served to the officers first, but with enough oil, who knows how long he could last."

He and Ambassador Sarek had dressed in simple clothes when they had realized there was the danger of discovery by rebel forces, hoping that they might not be recognized. But Sarek's face, regal bearing, and voice couldn't be concealed by the almost-plebeian attire of a Vulcan trader. They had recognized him immediately, Kirk believed, as all eyes shifted toward Sarek as he turned toward them. They smiled and asked his name rather pointedly. Upon giving a pseudonym, a guard backhanded Sarek with such force that Kirk barely caught him.

Kirk's anger had boiled over at the obvious misinformation they had been fed. They had been set up from the beginning. Everything had appeared as it should when they had arrived, so the Enterprise had been sent out after a high priority distress call that had probably also been faked. Reports had been received for close to a year implying the violent rebels were contained and the capital city was a safe place to start negotiations.

But the dictatorship had never had the control their faked reports and holo scenes depicted. Only the technology to create the images to lure the diplomatic party in. The elite's dictatorship had been dismantled and their leaders held captive. The Federation diplomat was lured in as a scapegoat to mollify the furious rebels that had actually taken most of the planet.

From the adjoining cell, Kirk had been forced to listen to Sarek's jacket being ripped off, the crash as he was thrown across the cell into the wall, the rustle of chains and clank of cuffs being secured about his wrists, then the ripping of his shirt, and finally the crack of the heavy whip again and again. Kirk found himself cringing inwardly in empathy for the compassionate, dignified man who sought only to bring people together, and seemed too often suffer for it.

The Patron stood just outside, between the cells, watching as Kirk tried not to react, and too often did, being laughed at heartily each time. He kept Kirk up to date on Sarek's ability to stand, his swaying, minute signs of discomfort, and on the amount of skin left on his back. When Sarek had finally sagged and hung from the metal wrist cuffs, they stopped. It had been much longer than Kirk would've thought possible, and he cursed the Vulcan control and pride that kept Sarek standing so long, thereby increasing his injuries and lengthening his suffering.

Two guards dragged Sarek's unconscious body unceremoniously across the hay-strewn floor and tossed him in a heap. The remains of his tunic were shredded and mixed with blood and raw flesh, and now littered with dirt and scattered bits of hay. Kirk was finally allowed to go to him. He approached and rolled Sarek onto his side to keep the pressure and dirt from the open wounds and his face off the damp floor.

He felt Sarek shiver; heard an almost imperceptible moan escape his lips as Kirk tried to reposition him. "Let me clean and bandage his wounds, at least," Kirk said roughly. "And if you want him to last much longer, he'll need some warmth." Guilt tugged at him-he, the military man, had not a scratch on him, while the ambassador, a civilian trying to help these people, lay bloodied, in immense pain, and cold to the bone.

The Patron grinned. "Watching you cleanse him might entertain the guards, but I'd rather see you lie together under a single blanket," he leered and Kirk had to wonder if he was implying something sexual, but not for long. "He will be nice to lay with, don't you think?" He snickered and winked.

Kirk glared at the Patron, but softened his expression as he realized that any more punishment would be dealt to the ambassador, not himself. The rebels decided that Sarek, being Vulcan, certainly wouldn't tell them what was sought, and so decided to use him to get to the captain to provide them information for use in their insurrection.

Water, rags and bandages were brought, and a single small blanket. More guards than necessary sat about the outside the cell, vying for the best seat. Kirk positioned himself as best he could to block their view of Sarek and began to gently wipe away the blood and debris from amongst the wounds. Sarek jerked slightly with each wipe. He worked quickly, taking advantage of Sarek's unconsciousness to spare him more pain when awake. Too little was left of the tunic, so Kirk ripped the remains from him. The guards chuckled and offered, "I think the pants should go to. They will soon enough, anyway." The guards laughed heartily.

Kirk swallowed at the thought of what might come next for this man he admired, respected and was coming to think of as a friend. Their shared experiences in sickbay while both recovered during the journey to Babel had had sparked Kirk's interest in getting to know the man behind the often-intimidating demeanor.

He wondered if he'd ever have the chance to get to know the man, with family drama, battles, and treachery always taking the forefront in his presence. But little by little, he had. So many assumptions about Vulcans based on Spock, were as soon dispelled by meeting his father. There was his obvious devotion to his wife to the point of distraction, and almost flirtatious tendencies toward both women and men that Kirk attributed to the demands of his position. Sarek could persuade and enamor with charm, magnetism and a devilish sense of humor, both infectious and erotic, with only slight expression, inflection or twist of phrase.

Kirk hadn't thought Sarek perceptive enough to glean his pain from the loss of Miramanee that welled up as he watched Amanda tend to Sarek. But he called Kirk over, talked of the Vulcans use of a mind touch to lessen the pain of grief, and offered such. Kirk was as surprised by the admission of grief by a Vulcan as he was by the offer of what felt an intimate act.

He felt his anxiety leave him almost immediately. The pain seemed to sift from his mind, as Sarek stiffened subtly, then his eyes closed then opened, glistening, and a flash of sadness crossed his features, then he looked again as he always did—confident, in full control.

Sarek and Amanda ingratiated themselves together and separately all over the Enterprise. Not knowing Sarek before except through the media, Kirk had considered it might have been his gratitude and relief at having a second chance at life, but Amanda never seemed surprised by what she saw. Kirk realized that Sarek's austere and indifferent mask portrayed what Vulcan most expected, or needed, in his position. Sarek was, however, more secure and comfortable with himself; not so rigid as his son in his need to appear in control.

There was also a completely illogical and provocative contrariness when cooperation would win him what he wanted, his need to poke the hive to watch the bees swarm angrily. He seemed a man of depth and contradiction. Kirk had seen him at his worst-emotionally ravaged and defeated when the timeline sabotage had taken his wife, and the incredible courage it took to try to gain her back, emotionally vulnerable in _pon farr_ when Lieutenant Teanae had taken advantage of his weakness.

Kirk was afraid how this experience might affect Sarek. Though he had been vulnerable, even defeated before, he had likely never been so brutalized or humiliated, if what he'd heard was going to happen. He couldn't imagine a man of Sarek's stature, background, and dignity sodomized and raped. The unfortunate irony was that these aspects were exactly what made him these men's target beyond the attempt to gain information.

He gently lifted him into a sitting position, laying Sarek's head on his shoulder to wrap the bandages around his chest. Sarek let out a soft moan that just reached the guards. "Hmmm, he is already getting hot from your embrace, Captain. Just wait 'til we have him in ours. He'll really like what we're gonna give him." A chorus of laughter followed.

Kirk gritted his teeth. Imagined how Sarek would have wanted him to respond. He gave them no reaction; imagined they weren't there. Sarek rolled his head and croaked a word that might have been "James". Kirk shushed him gently. "Rest. I've just bandaged your wounds."

As he turned Sarek to lay him back on his side, he saw a gash on his forehead he hadn't noticed and swallowed. The now-dried blood had oozed down the side of his face in rivulets. Head wounds were very serious for Vulcans. He cupped and lifted Sarek's face so he was eye-to-eye with him. Sarek's eyes were partially open, but looked cloudy with confusion-a bad sign. "Sir," Kirk whispered as he tried to catch some recognition in those eyes. "Sir!" he said loud enough now for the guards to hear. Titters followed, and they echoed him, "Sir!" in the same anxious tone.

The eyes seemed to focus a bit, but the cloudiness remained.

"James?" Sarek asked in a slightly stronger tone.

Kirk smiled.

"Where is my wife?"

Kirk frowned. Could it already be too late? He couldn't give up. Sarek was traumatized and confused, but with some rest, perhaps he'd be himself again. He had to believe that. The Enterprise. Soon the Enterprise would discover the deception, and would come for them.

He couldn't help but think of Amanda on remembered her discomfort at leaving her husband behind. Sarek explained it was simply the preliminary meeting; would be organizational, essentially of little substance, and that the capital was secure. But since it qualified as an area of unrest, Sarek wasn't comfortable bringing her as he usually would. Kirk heard that Amanda had a bad feeling, perhaps that had also influenced Sarek to leave her where he knew she'd be safe.

Kirk wondered if she had by now heard the distress call was probably faked. Felt compassion for what she must be fearing for her husband. But it was infinitely better than having her here to see this, or worse, to be assaulted herself. The Enterprise would come back soon. Hopefully, soon enough.

Sarek's eyes slipped closed and Kirk felt panic as he felt for a pulse on his neck. It thrummed softly, perhaps too softly, but he was still alive at least. He had to hope that the head injury wouldn't kill him; that his body would mend enough to survive until the Enterprise arrived. It had been only a couple years since they'd almost lost him on the way to Babel. He couldn't face Amanda and Spock with the news of Sarek's death, just as he couldn't imagine witnessing it himself. Just as the rest of the crew had grown fond of him since the journey to Babel, so had he. He had been as relaxed, warm and teasing on this mission as after his heart operation.

His reconciliation with his son allowed him to be more himself and he had seemed interested to get to know his son's friends. Kirk quickly saw the charisma, magnetism and charm he had always heard of in the man. His serious heart condition and rift with his son had seemed to suck the life out of him when Kirk first met him. All that stress plus the over one hundred representatives, half of whom attempted to corner him to argue about the vote, the volatile conference they headed to, the Tellarite ambassador regularly in his face, the murder, and the accusation of murder. They had not given Sarek any leeway, no benefit of the doubt. Yet Sarek never begrudged any of them that judgment and treatment

He gently lay Sarek down on his side and saw him shiver again more forcefully. He had to keep him warm. Kirk pulled off his jacket and wrapped Sarek in it, then tucked the blanket about him. He paused, not wanting to give the audience even more of a reason to mock them, but realized that Sarek needed all of the warmth Kirk could offer. He slipped under the last of the blanket and lay down along Sarek's back spooning him as closely as he could without aggravating his injuries.

"What ya doin' under there, Captain?" one guard asked.

Another chimed in, "Stuff somethin' between his knees, Captain,and you can get at more!"

"That'll make him feel better!"another added.

They all laughed at that.

"Captain don't know how to take advantage of a pretty ass and face ready for the taking!"

"He ain't got fight to stop you, Captain. At least have a taste, if not a meal."

Kirk tried to focus elsewhere. Nothing he could say or do would improve their situation, and too many things could worsen it. He only hoped the guards kept to their orders to let Sarek recuperate until their intended sport the next day, at least. But he could feel those eyes on their backs; feel the lust and rage directed toward them, and especially toward Sarek who he believed they resented for his comportment and station.

Kirk had the sense to question Sarek about the choice for this assignment. Sarek had also felt trepidation about his ability to be heard by the rebel side that seemed to want to hate him before he said a word. He was aristocracy incarnate to a world of the downtrodden and resentful, presumably held captive by the regal, spoiled, and callous minority. He had all of the opportunity, wealth, and circumstance they could never have. Except for his integrity, generosity, and compassion that they couldn't envision in him, he was the epitome of their mortal enemy.

The Federation Council argued that it was merely the beginning of long talks between the dictatorship and the rebel factions. Sarek would certainly make a great impression on the elitist leaders and he could get the "ball rolling" as those leaders seemed to be seeking this resolution of hostilities out of the goodness of their hearts. Sarek protested such an optimistic assumption, but they had at least thought that they would enter the safe capital city and organize and educate the leaders to mend their fences and possibly start their planet on the road to a possible Federation alliance, if not full admission.

Little contact had been made with the planet, as it had been hands-off for many decades due to unresolved hostilities that were too threatening to visitors. The majority of the world had an almost paranoid vision of visitors taking over their world due to skirmishes with both the Klingons and Romulans in the past. Only the more street-wise and sophisticated traders had penetrated the established zones, but in the last decade, few traders slipped in and then escaped. For almost a decade, only holovids had made it out and reports from the constantly changing leaders.

Kirk and Sarek had argued that there were too many discrepancies, and that the view of the planet suddenly sounded too serene and close to cooperation to be believed. Strategically, it was a brilliant holding should the Federation acquire it, allowing a window into both the Klingon and Romulan Empires. For all their resource-draining wars, it still was a fairly rich planet, not needing support but able to pay their fair share of Federation taxes should they receive membership. It was also mineral rich, which translated into dilithium. So, the positive reports offered up a rationale, at least, to send in a diplomatic party.

The Federation ignored both Kirk's and Sarek's objections, and with trepidation, Sarek agreed and resigned himself to a steep battle of persuasion. Who could have known he'd be so silenced before he could even marshal his first argument?

Sarek might have had a chance to begin to state his case if he was allowed a few more hours to recover from his injuries, for he appeared to be in a healing trance. But the rage beyond the bars had been burgeoning throughout the evening, and late in the night, as many of the guards fell asleep, one stood, and with a fierce determination, wanted to take the one who seemed so like those he hated. He grabbed the key opposite the door, slid it into the lock and stepped in so quietly that no one noticed.

He stood and stared at the two asleep, then stooped near the ambassador and traced the streak of dried blood side of his face and touched it to his own lips. He imagined what the ambassador's mouth might taste like, perhaps a light reflection of this coppery blood his tongue savored. He imagined tasting his lips, his tongue, biting down and cutting deeply as the ambassador fought him but couldn't pull free. But there were even greater pleasures he might find with this soft-voiced prince.

He lifted the blanket and surveyed the wrapped chest, tight and full with well-developed muscles, and the expanse of soft skin above and below the gauze. He traced the furls of hair just above the bandage and imagined the drifts that would lead to his nipples that were now, unfortunately, hidden under the dressing. His finger traced the trail of dark hair that led into his pants. His finger caught in the fastener, pushing it down to survey the upper groin.

He would have this prince before the officers. He pulled out his dagger, newly sharpened and slipped it into the waistband. With a quick slice, the crotch opened to the sight of a soft, stretchy undergarment, almost transparent over a mound of hidden flesh revealing a good-sized organ. He felt his heart quicken as he reached underneath the soft material to feel the warm flesh and fondled the flaccid yet hefty penis.

Sarek groaned as his breathing accelerated.

The guard grabbed Sarek's hair and thrust his mouth over his to silence him as he masturbated his prize.

"Leave him be," Kirk growled with a ferocity that surprised even him. The shock of what he saw, and worse, what might come of it, in front of him, filled him with rage.

"Wake the others and he'll die," the guard said, and the dagger whipped to Sarek's throat with breathtaking speed. Kirk could see it poised over Sarek's carotid artery. One flick and there would be no way Kirk could save him. He also saw that the guard intended to continue his violation as he saw the hand underneath the sheer fabric still stroking Sarek's penis. Kirk tried not to notice whether Sarek was responding, other than his breaths quickening.

Just how far would the guard go, and what chance would there be that this man might risk all-a even his life for this last act of defilement, out of lust, rage, and resentment?

"What do you want?" Kirk asked, thinking that there might be some way to barter for later "gifts" from Sarek or himself. More importantly, Kirk wanted to delay what might be inevitable. He only had to get the man talking, and keep him talking to begin to develop a bond. If he saw them as worthy beings in their own right, that might ameliorate the damage to come-something now ingrained from studying the ambassador, himself.

The masturbation ceased. Kirk swallowed and felt his fear-induced nausea decrease.

"You will strip him, and I will have all of him." The guard looked around and frowned. "There is no surface to lay him over…"

Kirk felt shock roil through him. _Surface to lay him over! _Kirk had to force the sickening image of the guard's preparation of Sarek-the naked form draped forward, legs spread-from his head. The man seemed to be organizing his entire night's horrific entertainment in front of Kirk, as if he would gladly stand by and help with the tools and props.

The man was not set to bargain; he had simply thought Kirk was willing to allow him anything of Sarek in his fear for Sarek's life. Kirk's nausea returned with a vengeance as he imagined what this man could do to Sarek and that at some point, Sarek might awaken to see Kirk as his audience. His heart pounded at his impotence. Sarek was so vulnerable now, and this man was a strong specimen of a strong species, loaded down with weaponry, bent on taking Sarek in any way he chose.

They stared at each other for several moments, when the guard smiled. "Is it really so much to ask, for the life of your succulent prince?"

The man looked down at his quarry and traced the bandages. "It is too bad they damaged him so soon. I would have liked to feel the length of his body against mine." His eyes became hooded with lust as he caressed Sarek's face and licked his lips as if ready for an enticing meal. "Pull off his pants," the guard ordered. He looked distracted by his heady lust and glanced around the cell. "We can bind him to the bars." He pulled off a leather strip from his belt that must have been a sort of garrote. With a sick irony, he remembered losing consciousness, almost dying, by a very similar weapon at the hands of Sarek's own son.

The guard caught Kirk's anxious stare at it.

"I don't need to asphyxiate him while I take him." The guard actually laughed good-naturedly. "That's a fondness and privilege of the officers, which he will soon experience, no doubt. I will bind his wrists with this, and leave some length to turn him so that I can taste his seed before I leave mine within him."

Everything seemed to be accelerating out of Kirk's control. He had thought by now the other guards might have awakened. He was beginning to believe this man's revolting fantasy might actually take place, with Kirk powerless to stop him and being forced to watch as Sarek awakened. It was a nightmare. Why hadn't the guards awakened? He stared at them as they lay still, mouths hung open, snoring.

The guard caught his appraisal of the guards. "Don't worry about them. I added a little herb to their drink. We'll have the whole night to enjoy him."

Kirk felt himself pale; the man thought he might join in? There was little he could do but play along. If he thought he was in on it, perhaps he might be afforded a chance to save Sarek from this.

The guard smiled at him. "You realize your friend will never survive the officers, each man will be allowed to asphyxiate him a little longer as they take him, until the last officer gets to watch him die. They like to see the light flicker out as the victim stares at he who takes him. You feel them rock with your thrusts, see that last bit of terror, as their life force ebbs." He seemed to shake himself out of his reverie, a bright smile on his face. "I can't wait to be an officer; someday maybe I will watch that life force ebb as I ram him harder and harder." He stared at Sarek's still form hungrily. "I am almost tempted…"

Kirk shivered at the thought.

"Let me get some drink for the occasion!" He stepped out, leaving the door open slightly, then thought again about that, smiled, and locked it.

Kirk felt his mind racing. Sarek was to die the next day, after this guard spent the night… He stepped quickly toward Sarek. If perhaps he could wake him. Together they might be able to surprise or distract the guard. He pulled Sarek up to a sitting position, careful of his wounds, but his head lolled; he was still unconscious in his healing trance. Perhaps, if he knew of the danger, he could awaken for a short time. He shook him lightly. "Sarek…Sarek! Wake up!"

But the footsteps approached again.

Kirk laid Sarek back down, as the guard walked back in.

"I thought you'd have stripped him by now," he said, already chugging a bottle of liquor. "No matter, I'll enjoy ripping the last of his clothes off before I have him."

Kirk suppressed a shudder at that and then noticed that some of the spiked bottles of liquor were not yet empty, and looked the same as the guard's.

The guard stepped over to Sarek and lifted him onto his shoulder with ease. He carried him to the bars where a crossbar hung about seven feet up. The guard looked Sarek up and down."He's about six feet tall, I'd say."

Kirk nodded numbly, glancing at the bottle in the guard's hand, then at the bottle just outside the cell door. He'd have to wait until the guard was distracted, unfortunately,and Kirk didn't want to think about what that distraction might be, exactly. He couldn't think on that now; what awaited the ambassador tomorrow would be far worse. He had to focus on limiting the damage, and keeping Sarek alive, but if Sarek died, Kirk would ensure the reports would be vague.

The guard lifted Sarek up against the bars. "Hold him will you."

Kirk held Sarek against the bars feeling oddly guilty in his acquiescence as he felt Sarek's dead weight lean against him, but he had to play along. Then, as the guard retrieved his leather strap and tied Sarek's wrists together, Kirk had an idea-to lessen the damage should it come to that and which might provide a chance of escape.

"Lubricant," he said, blushing at the thought that this could also be considered another acquiescence, a very intimate one.

The guard looked up. "Oil, yes,I can't leave damage they might notice."

Kirk felt disgust for the man's total obliviousness to Sarek's needs, as if he was a nice steak the guard wanted for dinner-add a little seasoning, toss it on the grill…

The man locked the door again, and ran off down the hall.

Kirk lowered Sarek and propped him gently but quickly. He slipped his arm through the bars and reached, but came up several inches short of the first spiked bottle, no matter how hard he strained. He started to run for another he might reach when the guard came back down the hall. He ran back to Sarek and lifted him back in place. He thought about trying to wake him again in these last seconds, but realized his unconsciousness was probably for the best, psychologically and physically.

The guard stepped in with the oil and frowned at Sarek. "I had thought he'd be awake by now." He looked disappointed and pensive. "I wanted to see his face when I ripped his clothes off. I was hoping he'd fight a little before I took him. That makes it so much more enjoyable."

The nausea crept back up Kirk's throat as he couldn't help but imagine it. What would a rape be without a violent subduing? Kirk shuddered before he could help himself. Luckily, the guard hadn't noticed.

The guard stepped up and pulled Sarek's tied wrists up to the crossbar and tied the leather to it. Sarek's feet barely touched the ground. His arm muscles strained holding his weight, showing how clearly defined they were. The guard stroked down one. "Nice," he said, almost breathless. His hand traveled over Sarek's chest, scrabbling at the bandages, twirled through the hair at the slice of belly exposed, to his lower groin. He stuffed his hand into Sarek's pants, grabbed his penis and rubbed it roughly with a sigh. "He has a beautiful body." The guard put his hand up to raise Sarek's face, "and such a pretty face. Too bad he will be dead by tomorrow."

Kirk had to look away at the man's treatment of Sarek to hide his fury, lest he give away his true agenda.

"Perhaps some _rilea_ would wake him."

This didn't sound good to Kirk at this point.

"An herb with a very potent scent." He considered this. "But then we will need a gag so he won't cry out."

Kirk was not sure if he meant out of the attempt to summon help or pain. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"What about a blindfold?" Kirk couldn't help himself. The thought of what might happen to Sarek, and having him see Kirk there… His request was purely selfish on his part, and he felt guilty for that, but if what was likely to happen actually did, he wouldn't think he could look in Sarek's eyes if he saw Kirk watching. And what would he think? It might be easier for Sarek to not see Kirk.

The guard stared at Kirk. "Why? That's the best part! The fear, the humiliation, the resignation, the pain…"

Kirk noticed the bulge visibly grow in the guard's pants, and had to look elsewhere and focus back on the bottles.

He must have looked stricken, because the guard patted him on the shoulder. "I will apply the blindfold while you are with me. Then, I can put you in the next cell when I pull it off. Would you like to be here at the beginning or the end?"

"The beginning," Kirk answered too quickly and hoped that the guard didn't notice. He couldn't imagine leaving Sarek in here for hours alone with that monster. At least he could provide some minimal protection.

"Okay, the _rilea_ to wake him up, a gag, and…" he laughed and shook his head, "a blindfold." He started for the door but paused, "I will get you to look in his eyes as you take him."

Kirk's knees felt weak at the thought that he might have to do just that in order to save Sarek's life. But could he actually do it?

End of Chapter One (Chapter Two coming soon)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The guard looked as if he were about to throw a party. "I always like to use a mirror in their face. You grab their hair and pull their face up as you thrust into them. If I were an officer, I would so enjoy the leather around this ambassador's neck while I thrust hard enough to split him in two. I would pull harder and harder and watch the fear in his eyes."

Kirk saw the bulge in the guard's pants swell even more.

With a big smile, the guard locked the door and trotted off for the last of his tools.

Kirk launched for the bottle at the furthest end. His fingers just missed the top. He tried and tried, but it was also inches too far. He stared at Sarek sadly. He couldn't be this close to a chance to save him, and not. Then he froze and looked at Sarek's chest. The remains of his tunic! He heard the footsteps coming back. He launched himself for the tattered shirt. Ran back toward the far bottle, held two ends of the tunic and threw it over.

The footsteps grew louder. He pulled the bottom of the bottle toward him until it was close enough and lunged for it. He ran to the other bottle and switched them. He only hoped that the guard couldn't taste the drug in it, but the others hadn't, so maybe this would work. How long would it take? He took a swig of the undrugged bottle and grimaced, then slipped it out near where the other had been.

The guard came back in. "I assume you want the blindfold before the _rilea_?"he asked, thenlaughed.

"That liquor tastes like hell," Kirk said offhandedly, hoping to remind the guard to drink more, and at the same time sparing himself from having to risk drinking the drugged bottle, if offered.

The guard smiled. "So now you are starting to enjoy yourself?"

He had stepped up and was about to blindfold Sarek, but held it up for Kirk. "You're sure?"

Kirk nodded yes, fearful for the moment the guard would refuse. Then he covered Sarek's eyes.

"Oh, I've been daydreaming of this all day."

Kirk stared at the bottle, but couldn't risk giving himself away by bringing it up twice in so short a time.

The guard grabbed the gag. "I would've liked to kiss him while he was awake. He has a beautiful mouth-very sensual." The guard brushed his fingers along Sarek's lips almost tenderly. "Maybe later, when the blindfold is off I can sneak off the gag. Just one long kiss and a solid bite to his tongue while he struggles against me the last time I take him." The guard movedhis hand to Sarek's throat as he said this and squeezed, leaning his weight into it.

Kirk shifted uncomfortably.

The guard added his other hand to Sarek's throat and his eyes gleamed with his smile.

Kirk began to wonder if all of this was a ruse, and he would simply strangle Sarek as he hung from the bar, but just as he was about to protest, the guard smiled at him. "Oh, don't worry. I won't spoil our fun. I wouldn't want to waste him with so much planned."

The guard applied the gag, and uncorked the _rilea_. He waved it under Sarek's nose and quickly he started to come around with a cough or two, but he still looked groggy and was likely very confused as to what was going on.

"The prince awakens," the guard announced. Sarek's head came up at the voice."My lord, you are likely very lost." The guard laughed in a friendly manner. "I would like to know if you are aware of your surroundings enough to…interact with me. Give me a nod for yes or a shake for no." The guard said this very officially, but a cold smile alighted on his lips.

Sarek gave no response.

The guard's hand flew out and slapped Sarek hard across the face.

Kirk clasped his hands behind his back tightly to keep from interceding. He glanced again at the bottle of liquor.

"I have your friend here," the guard said.

Kirk jerked his head up toward the guard. He had said he didn't want to be seen, but would the guard let Sarek know he stood here by interacting with him in a friendly way? He noticed Sarek didn't react at all-here diplomatic and Starfleet training were the same-no reaction is the safest for all parties if there is doubt as to your awareness. Kirk noticed a bit more tension in Sarek's face, which translated into a show of great concern from a Vulcan trying not to react. Kirk felt warmth toward Sarek flood through him for that.

"You have no servants here, my lord." The guard smiled brightly. "In fact, I think you will have to service me." He grabbed Sarek's crotch.

Sarek jerked, obviously startled. Hisbody tensed in what Kirk decided must be revulsion, but then his body relaxed and Kirk was willing to bet he would be reacting little to anything else done to him. The clues for what was to come were not subtle.

"Now answer me, or I will hurt your friend."

Kirk tightened his grip and looked down to not show his anger.

"Are you completely aware of your surroundings?"theguard asked.

Sarek shook his head no.

The guard flushed with anger, "You think you're so clever." He swung again; a closed fist caught Sarek in the jaw. The crunch shook Kirk-that sound would be teeth breaking and grinding flesh along the way. A droplet of blood appeared at the edge of the gag.

"Other than the limitations of the blindfold and the gag, are you completely aware of your surroundings?" the guard asked. "I will hit your friend next if you continue to play with me."

Sarek nodded yes.

"Good."

He reached up and tore Sarek's remaining clothes off with one sweep of his hand and stepped forward. He pressed up against Sarek, his hands caressed then squeezed his buttocks. "You have a beautiful body, Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan."

Kirk forced himself not to look away. He had to steel himself for much worse he imagined. He noticed a little shiver course through Sarek when the guard lickedand bit his neck ashe slipped his hand down to grabSarek's penis and strokeit. The guard had to pry Sarek's legs apart to reach between them.

"Don't deny me access, Ambassador, or I will turn toyour friend for my need."

Sarek relaxed his legs, allowing complete access as the guard parted them. Kirk felt aburning hatred at the guard using himto coerce Sarek.

Sarek's breathing grew imperceptibly more rapid yet the tension in his face softened. He was fighting to control his reactions, Kirk surmised. Likely, his injuries were still affecting him.

The guard gripped Sarek's penis and rubbed it between his hands. "You are absolutely beautiful." He lowered himself to his knees and teased the organ with his tongue, flicking and tastingit. Sarek's breathing grew more rapid then, suddenly, decreased to normal. He tested the leather tie about his wrists.

"You will be under my…administration…for several hours. You might as well relax and enjoy the attention." He laughed, then took the rather large penis into his mouth as he fondled Sarek's testicles. The guard's other hand snuck around behind and Kirk had to look away as Sarek jerked in obvious response to being entered. His breathing quickened then slowed again almost as quickly.

"Ah, Mr. Ambassador, you are nice and tight. It will be an honor to be the first male who takes you. You can think of it as your preparation for the many who will have you tomorrow. That will be far more painful."

The guard suddenly stopped and stood. "This will not do! You are playing with me again, Mr. Ambassador. You responded easily when you were unconscious. This leads me to believe that you are somehow keeping yourself from becoming aroused. DoI have to try this on your friend now?"

Sarek shook his head and lay his head back against the bars.

The guard gave Kirk a knowing smile and wink. "Now I will taste you before the meal."

He grabbed at Sarek's penis roughly and pulled Sarek from the bars with it. He stuffed as much as he could into his mouth and grabbed at Sarek's testicles and squeezing and manipulating them roughly.

Sarek tensed from the pain as the guard thrust his fingers roughly into him again. His breathing quickened. "You're going to have to relax, Mr. Ambassador, or I am going to injure you when I shove something much larger in.

Kirk had to look away as he saw the guard greedily sucking the now large, aroused penis. He focused instead on Sarek's chest as itheaved and the unbandaged parts of his skin flushed as he allowed himself to get excited, thereby supposedly protectingKirk from the same treatment. Kirk felt white hot anger at what the man was doing to Sarek; felthimself disconnected, as if he were anywhere but watching this eminent man being forcibly sodomized.

Sarek's breathing became ragged and then he shuddered, and a little breath of a moan escaped him as he climaxed into the guard's mouth. Kirk couldn't watch, yet what he heard and felt, being this close, made little difference.

"Well done, Ambassador, now…" he flipped Sarek roughly and pressed him against the bars, then yanked out his hips and kicked his legs apart. He looked around for a moment, "this will be a tight fit. Where's the oil?"

Kirk stared at the oil sitting next to the bottle of liquor, and could only hope.

The guard grabbed the oil, then glanced at the bottle of liquor and picked it up. He set down the liquor and poured oil in his hand and started to massage Sarek's buttocks. "Hmmm, beautiful." He thrust his finger into Sarek a few times. "Well, after tomorrow you certainly won't be tight!" He laughed and looked over at Kirk, just missing his Adam's applebob.

Kirk started to worry whether Sarek would receive any mercy at all, and whether it might be kinder for him to die here before being delivered to the officers. His throat burned and his eyes misted at the thought. He stared at the liquor that the guard had set down.

The guard pulled a long knife from his belt and Kirk cringed as he brought it down near Sarek's testicles and tapped them with the blade. Sarek visibly tensed. Then the guard brought the knife to the bandages and sliced them off in one savage stroke. The back was layered with deep verdant stripes and severely damaged skin. The guard dropped his pants. A very large, erect penis leapt out. He oiled it up and bounced it about between Sarek's thighs and kicked his legs even further apart. He grabbed Sarek's hair with one hand and his huge oiled cock with the other as he started to place it behind Sarek and tease his buttocks with it.

"If there was ever a time to relax, Mr. Ambassador, this would be it." He laughed merrily, then paused and looked back around and stepped back. Kirk's heart leapt as he picked up the liquor and took a long swig and then a second, but then he rummaged around for something else he brought. He picked up another of the leather ties that bound Sarek's wrists and twirled it as he smiled at Kirk.

Kirk swallowed hard. Was it coming down to this? Was he always intendingto strangle Sarek as the officers would have? Kirk stepped toward the guard.

The guard slipped the leather around Sarek's neck. Sarek's head snapped up and tension filled every part of his body. Did he believe at this moment he was about to die? Kirk wished he could reassure and comfort Sarek, but he was worried himself. What if the guard decided to throw caution to the wind for one last big thrill by taking what was meant for the officers.

Kirk saw that Sarek was still tense. He watched as the Vulcan pulled again at the leather binding his wrists, testing it for any weakness, but the leather was too thick and supple, the knot too tight and multi-layered. It had been a last futile attempt, but Sarek had little choice left but to try. All of his muscles tightened.

"Now, Mr. Ambassador, this really is going to hurt a lot if you don't relax." The guard sounded odd, almost giddy. Kirk realized he was hoping to hurt him as much as possible. The warnings were simply his way of reminding Sarek of what was about to happen. He didn't look back at Kirk to reassure him though he had to have noticed Kirk getting closer.

The guard tightened the leather around Sarek's neck. "Now you can still breathe, right?"

Sarek nodded but he didn't look confidant to Kirkthat it wouldn't get much tighter. His breathing had accelerated; it was as ifhe could not calm his fear of dying while being violated. Was he likely even now thinking of Amanda and what she might learn through the bond? Knowing Sarek, he was blocking all of this from her.

But she would know through the bond if he died. If Kirk couldn't stop what he feared most at this moment, there was no way that Kirk would let Amanda hear of the details of Sarek's death.

The guard set his huge, engorged penis behind Sarek and adjusted it slightly, poised for entrance. Sarek stood tense, utterly at the mercy of the guard. The guard twisted the leather. Sarek sucked a breath in with difficulty. Kirk tensed, trying to figure what to do if the guard continued tightening it. He scanned the cell, but there was nothing left there. He stared at the ridiculous variety of weapons that were too securely attached to the guard's belt to do him any good.

In one forceful lunge, the guard rammed his huge penis into Sarek as he yanked and twisted the leather. Sarek jerked from the onslaught and sucked in a last gaspof breath. Kirk jumped, his heart pounding, the blood running in his ears as the guard held fast to the leather as he thrust himself again and again savagely into Sarek, pulling on the leather as if reins to a horse. Sarek bucked against the assault, but with his hands tied, he was helpless. The guard reached for the blindfold and ripped it off. Grabbed Sarek's face and twisted it viciously toward him. "Look at me as I take you," theguard screamed. "Keep looking at me. Or I will kill your friend, too!"

"Nooo!" Kirk screamed and ran at the guard.

The guard swept his arm and Kirk flew across the cell.

He thrust harder into Sarek, his face twisted back to look into the guard's face. Sarek groaned as he struggled pitifully, all of him taken by this man as he writhed his last.

Kirk could only watch as Sarek's eyes, fastened on the guard, lost their luster, and sadness infused them as his eyelids started to droop, his body rocking with the violation that became more extreme with each pounding.

Sarek's eyes closed, and his head fell.

"Die, Ambassador, die!" the guard screamed, then laughed. He held tight to the leather, twisting it yet again as he rammed himself into Sarek once, twice, three times and screamed with his climax, thrusting so hard Sarek's limp form flew into the bars again and again. The guard gave the leather one last twist as he withdrew himself from Sarek. The guard's knees collapsed. He screamed like a madman until his body crumpled to the ground. Sarek hung unmoving, the leather still tight around his neck.

Kirk ran to Sarekand ripped off the leather strap. He wasn't breathing. Kirk lunged at the guard and detached the knife, ran back and sawed the leather from Sarek's wrists. Sarek collapsed into Kirk's arms and he laid him on his back and yanked down the gag and checked for a heartbeat, finding none. Kirk tilted Sarek's head back, pulled open his mouth and blew as much air in as he could three times, then pressed hard over his heart five times. He started again when strong hands pulled him away as he screamed again. "Nooooo!"

A hypospray hissed on his arm and the cell around him faded.

**End****of****Chapter****Two** (Chapter Three coming soon!)


	3. Chapter 3

**PART II – Coming to Terms**

**Chapter Three**

Kirk awakened in the Enterprise sickbay on a diagnostic bed. In the next bed over lay Sarek, sleeping or unconscious, but obviously alive from the readings above his head. Movement caught his eye. He heard footsteps, and turned to discover Doctor McCoy, whose slight smile betrayed his concern.

Kirk looked back over at Sarek. "Is he asleep?"

"More like half-conscious," McCoy said, his eyes glistening.

"How is he? Kirk asked.

"Luckyto be alive." McCoy glanced at the read-outs. "He's on heavy pain meds and sedated. His head injury will keep him, at the very least, dizzy, groggy, and uncoordinated for awhile."

Kirk stared at him, obviously wanting more.

"A few seconds more without oxygen and his brain would have shut down irretrievably," McCoy said. "It's a moderate head injury, but then Vulcans don't survive anything more serious."McCoy didn't meet Kirk's gaze. "He has some serious internal injuries as well."

"Have you talked with him yet?" Kirk asked, hedging, hoping for some clue as to what McCoy knew without volunteering anything before he had a chance to talk to Sarek.

McCoy stared at Kirk for several seconds, then stared at Sarek and cocked an eyebrow. "I know about the rape," he said quietly. McCoy's eyes warmed as he watched him. Kirk realized the physical evidence for that would have been clear, especially with that level of violence.

McCoy continued, "He hasn't been conscious enough to be coherent. Anyway, I didn't feel it would be beneficial to his overall health to try questioning him about what I could discover on my own, and…" He looked as if heregretted that last word, and looked away.

Kirk felt his insides twisting. "And?" He knew whatever McCoy held back wouldn't be good.

"I witnessed the assault," he said. Then corrected, "We witnessed it."

Kirk paled at what they must have seen.

"We had the two locked gates to get through. We couldn't blast them without attracting guards from the other sections, so we had to use a code-key generator. It took about a minute or two."

Kirk thought back. That had to be the entire time Sarek was being strangled and he shuddered.

Both McCoy and Kirk looked back to check on Sarek-still unconscious.

McCoy continued. "I didn't think we'd make it in time, and to watch that monster do what he did while we stood helpless…" He closed his eyes. "If that guard had not passed out, Sarek would be cooling in the morgue instead."

"I drugged him—the guard," Kirk said, now fitting in what must have happened, "but it took longer to act than I'd hoped." So he wasn't impotent after all. He did all he could do. He just hoped it was enough.

"Quick enough to save his life," McCoy added to emphasize its importance. "We just have to keep an eye on him to make sure his larynx doesn't swell closed."

"Who else saw?" Kirk asked. Then he swallowed, feeling his heart begin to pound. "Not Spock!

"No! Thank God!" McCoy said and looked as if he felt ill at the thought. "Uhura was there."

Kirk swallowed hard. Uhura had become close to both Sarek and Amanda.

"And Sulu, and asecurity detail. They're all pretty shook up."

Kirk swallowed. "Does Amanda know yet?"

"I didn't have the heart." McCoy looked up and his eyes looked pained. "She'd seen the head injury, and the gouge and bruises from the attempted strangulation and her knees gave out. I sedated her."

Kirk couldn't help but wonder how they would tell her.

-ooOoo-

Spock stepped in not long after to update the captain before he was released. Kirk noticed Spock's brief glance at his father, and had had years to learn to recognize the concern in his eyes. He knew McCoy had given him the general information, but had left the worst to Jim.

Kirk was released and brought Spock to his cabin to talk. He first poured himself a stiff scotch.

Spock refused the offer. "I would rather just hear what you wanted to tell me privately."

Kirk paused, his mind frozen at how best to begin. "There is no easy way to tell you this," he stalled, realizing he sounded like a bad movie, but at least he had begun.

"Please, Jim," Spock prompted almost impatiently, then looked away. "If my father is dying…"

"No, God no," Kirk said. "At least I don't think so. I doubt it. I hope not. No."

Spock seemed to stare deep into his eyes as if he might net the answer from their depths. "Rest assured, my father will always be well taken care of, no matter what his…mental state…is," Spock said quietly.

Kirk realized Spock thought his father's head injury might be too devastating to recover from. To be brain damaged, for a Vulcan, would be worse than death.

He realized that Spock had likely suffered more imagining the worst, so he just said it. "Your father was sexually assaulted. Violently." Kirk watched Spock for a reaction, but only got a firmer posture and a cooler expression.

"That would be the serious internal injuries the doctor referred to," Spock said, his head bowed as if considering. "I had wondered how they had come about and why he did not specify."

"I'm sorry, Spock."

Spock looked up. "As a diplomat, traveling throughout the galaxy to settle disputes, he has always been in a vulnerable position, if not a target. It was always a possibility that I am sure he came to terms with long ago. My father has gone through much in his many years in the Diplomatic Corps. He is strong and resilient; he will overcome this unfortunate occurrence without undue emotionalism or indulgence, as he has others in the past."

Kirk felt immediate rage, but contained it. He had attacked his First Officer before for precisely this cold analysis only to find it a front when dealing with what bothered him most. He couldn't believe Spock could be so unaffected by his father's sexual assault. Could Spock truly think his father so impenetrable?

He wondered how clearly Spock saw his father, instead of the paradoxical hero and tyrant he envisioned as a child. Kirk decided to handle it in a calmer fashion that might instill seeds of doubt so that Spock might consider offering support to his father and continue to deepen their understanding and support of one another.

"I wonder," Kirk said, "if you don't have higher expectations of your father than he would ever consider of you, Spock?"

Spock looked at him quizzically.

He stared hard at Spock. "He has feelings, and monumental pride, even though they're supposedly suppressed. He takes comfort in your mother and worries about her constantly. He also fears for your acceptance and contentment and is hurt by your distance. I can't see how you can miss all of these things. Did you ever stop to think that he might need you, even more than you need him?"

Spock looked vaguely hurt and almost dumbfounded, then shifted and turned as if to reply, but Kirk cut him off.

"I don't want to hear any argument until you think hard about what I said. And think about who you would actually be defending, if you were to argue this-your father, or yourself for your imagined archetype of a father."

-ooOoo-

As Kirk returned to sickbay hours later, Amanda stepped in looking sluggish and tearful. She had obviously not waited to sleep off all of the sedative. Kirk stepped over to her side.

"I want to see my husband again," she said quietly.

Kirk took her to him and since he had not had a good look himself since his arrival aboard, he stared at the ambassador. The gouge about his neck was ugly and deep, bruises mottled much of the skin around it. Kirk swallowed at the thought of how close Sarek had come; how he had lost consciousness likely assuming he would die while violated.

Amanda held her hands to her husband's face and kissed his lips lightly, then his forehead, then each cheek. She traced the scar of dermal regeneration down his left temple where it met with abrasions and bruises and then more bruising around his jaw to his lips, swollen on the left side where the lip was split from being hit. She slipped her fingers slightly under the cover that ended just under his shoulders and paused, her fingers shaking.

Kirk snared them, and secured them between his hands. He was thankful she couldn't see her husband's back as yet, or the significant damage from the violent rape. A sheet of permaskin was generating new skin cells on his back in a thin layer between him and the bed. Though Amanda hadn't noticed, her husband was actually suspended one quarter inch above the bed while the process was active, to relieve the pressure on the wounds and, therefore, also alleviate any pain from that pressure.

Her eyes were wet as she looked up into his. She looked so frail and afraid, seeming a completely different person than when she stood smiling with Sarek by her side, gently teasing him, and always ready to rein him in. "I want to see what else they've done to him." Her voice cracked, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

"He's alive, and will be well again," Kirk promised, though not quite sure of that himself. He reached to hug her, but she wouldn't allow it.

"You and the doctor need to get your stories straight." She sounded angry.

Kirk was concerned now, but tried to hide it. "What did he say?" He felt his stomach tighten, wondering if McCoy had been protecting him from the whole truth.

Amanda looked at him, confused. "He said there are a lot of ifs with head wounds and asphyxia, especially with Vulcans, but that things don't look nearly as bad as they could be."

Not terribly reassuring, Kirk thought.

"I am going to ask him to quit the Diplomatic Corps. No, I am going to make him quit. He's a brilliant and gifted man; he could do almost anything else." Her voice caught. "I never thought I would do that to him…but…"

Kirk swallowed. There seemed to be no end to Sarek's miseries from this. "You need to give yourselves some time before making any decisions.

"Oh, Jim, you don't know how many close calls he's had. How many times I'd thought he was dead. How many times he was held captive and, God knows what was done to him."

Kirk swallowed at this, realizing he was complicit even now in withholding the truth from her.

She took a shuddering breath and continued. "Every time I hear a loud noise, I think that it's an explosive device and I have to think of where he is and if he's still alive!" She sucked in a deep breath to stop her shuddering, "Twice I heard on the news that my husband was assassinated. Can you imagine how that feels?"

Kirk reached for her and she let him hold her now. She felt even smaller in his arms as she continued, "They showed his limousine exploding only a year after we were married. I was visiting my parents; he was on his way there. My father almost had a heart attack seeing that. But the bomb had mis-signaled. The driver was killed instantly. Sarek had stepped out less than five minutes before."

They heard a faint noise from Sarek and both turned and stepped toward him. His eyes looked foggy still, but they seemed to focus on Amanda, and concern was clear in them.

Amanda picked up his hand and held it tight as she leaned close. Kirk stood just behind her, watching Sarek closely.

He seemed to be fighting to keep his eyes open. He struggled to speak, whispering something so softly, neither could hear. Amanda leaned close. Kirk leaned in behind her. "Are you well, beloved?" he whispered so very quietly, straining even to get that out.

"Yes, my love," Amanda said. "How are you, sweetheart?"

To this Sarek allowed a slight smile, and whispered, "Tired…" and his eyes slipped closed again. Amanda kissed him softly on the lips again, then turned to Kirk and kissed him on the cheek. "I think he's going to be all right, with time…" she said.

Kirk left them, closing the door to the private room and went to visit McCoy. He had only been there ten minutes when Amanda burst into the office, surprising them both so that McCoy slopped coffee over his most recent report.

"It appears you've left out some details regarding my husband," Amanda said, her voice darker than they'd ever heard it. It was immediately clear why Sarek seemed to avoid her wrath.

McCoy and Kirk traded concerned glances.

"He'd been having trouble sleeping…" Amanda started, still glaring.

McCoy interrupted, "That's to be expected, with a head injury and the drugs."

"Being his wife, I took the prerogative of trying to help him relax." Her eyebrows rose as her eyes darkened further.

McCoy got the gist immediately and stared at his coffee. He'd had Sarek in sickbay for more than a week after his heart operation and he knew exactly what she meant. She had asked then if it would be safe to help her husband relax through "gentle manipulation"-a hand job or fellatio he had gathered when she winked and smiled.

When he had assured her it would be safe, she frequently visited to relax her husband. After her visits, Sarek had slept like a baby. It was certainly safer and healthier than the additional drugs it would have taken, and had provided a further workout, besides the regimen he had prescribed, to strengthen his repaired heart. It had also seemed to keep them very close and their spirits up as he recovered.

Kirk stared at her, confused.

"We were going to tell you soon," McCoy said softly.

"Not soon enough! When I reached between his legs, he nearly jumped off the bed, and he can barely move on his own." Her pain reached her voice and mixed with her anger. "In over forty years of marriage, my husband has never once refused me intimate relations. Until now."

Kirk understood finally and felt saddened that Amanda had to find out that way.

McCoy cleared his throat and set his coffee down. "There was a sexual assault."

"Obviously!" Her anger rocketed back with a vengeance. "Perhaps if I'd known, I wouldn't have added to his trauma just now!"

"I'm sorry," McCoy said, "but we were concerned for you, too. We thought it best not to burden you with too much at once."

Amanda's eyes lit up. "I don't even allow THAT from my husband, as you well know! How dare you! He was attacked and I need every detail so that I can piece him back together."

"Yes, ma'am," McCoy said.

Amanda glared at Kirk, who couldn't meet her eyes. "You knew, too, didn't you!"

Kirk swallowed as he caught her glare. "Yes, ma'am." He had heard that Sarek and Amanda had had some firestorms of fights. Now he believed it. She looked ready to tear him to shreds with her bare hands.

"I want every detail of what happened, in case my husband decides to block any memories from me and become 'creative' with the truth again." Her sarcasm was scathing.

McCoy nodded.

"I also want to view all evidentiary and documentation holos taken, both public and confidential."

McCoy's eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Now wait just a minute!"

Kirk felt shock at the thought that she would see crystal clear 3-dimensional images of all of her husband's injuries. By law, since Sarek had been representing the Federation, holos of all injuries received during a mission were taken immediately upon his arrival to sickbay and then again after being cleaned for a clearer view of the damage. This included the anal/rectal damage, external and internal, that had to be taken. Kirk couldn't even bring himself to look at them, though as captain, he was supposed to.

Amanda's eyes turned icy. "Federation law cannot pre-empt Vulcan law in matters of privacy, Doctor. Vulcan required that contingency before their acceptance of admission to the Federation. Since my husband is Vulcan, this applies to us. The Vulcan Privacy Code allows a husband no privacy from his wife with regard to medical records due to the dangers and lack of judgment brought on by _pon farr, _but I believe you know that."

It was a twisted irony, Kirk realized, that the Vulcan Privacy Code, used as a shield innumerable times by Sarek to protect his privacy, was now being used as a sword against him by his own wife. It would kill Sarek to find out Amanda had seen those holos.

Just because she could, would she actually view them? And if she did, would she actually tell Sarek? She had become ferocious in guarding his health without regard for his privacy, but Kirk didn't believe she would actually take advantage of or hurt her husband unnecessarily, unless perhaps out of anger should he try to hide something else from her or casually risk his health or life in some way.

Kirk noticed McCoy took a breath to calm himself before responding to her shocking request. His face had reddened, his eyes steely. "Propriety would require a wife request the viewing of confidential images of her husband _only_ in the rare circumstances where the viewing _is necessary_. That privilege is extended _even_ to young children."

"Doctor, did you think Sarek could withhold that he'd had heart attacks from me without effect or sanction. He lost that privilege when he did so." Her voice was calm, but the anger behind the words stunned Kirk. This was a side of Amanda he had never imagined.

She had obviously not forgiven Sarek for not telling her of his previous heart attacks, and would use it as a weapon to afford her better leverage in protecting his health and safety. Kirk had to wonder then what she had meant when she said she would "make him" quit the Diplomatic Corps. What else might Sarek have given up to appease his wife for his earlier withholding of information?

Kirk had heard that T'Pring had lost her status as an equal to her new husband Stonn due to invoking the challenge upon one other than her chosen, thereby risking "innocents" to protect her desired intended. She had in essence become Stonn's property because of that. Though Kirk detested the woman, the thought of someone becoming the property of another made him nauseous.

For such a seemingly sophisticated and advanced society as modern Vulcan was, sometimes their completely unorthodox and unexpected wrinkles tied to ancient ways caught Kirk off guard. He had to wonder if somehow Sarek had lessoned his status as compared to his wife, if somehow she gained a power over him to make choices he would normally never concede.

Vulcan was a matriarchal society, Kirk remembered, and in essence, those in power take that power for themselves more often than not. He knew that during _pon farr, _a male could refuse absolutely nothing to his wife. Yet a wife, by law, could refuse even her body to her husband during his Time and thereby force him to endure a death that, Kirk had heard, was the most painful in, at least, known history.

Kingdoms had changed hands as wives watched husbands writhe in agony, slip into insanity, and die. Sarek's most recent _pon farr _had been quite recent, less than a year after the journey to Babel, and they had ended up on the Enterprise. Kirk remembered that crisis all too well. Could Amanda have forced him to give up certain rights then?

There was much Kirk didn't know about Vulcan society so full of bizarre contrasts and seeming oxymoron's, like the peaceful people surrounded by deadly weapons ready for use at every ceremony and gathering.

There was really no way to know what Amanda might hold over him, perhaps nothing but his incredible devotion or a significant promise in a vulnerable moment unconnected to _pon farr_. Kirk decided he must try to warn Sarek of what his wife knew, before he chance worsening her trust in him even further and likely force her to view the holos, even tell him she had viewed them.

Amanda continued, "And I want a full psychological evaluation. Again, being the wife of a Vulcan, I am allowed full disclosure."

Kirk grimaced. He didn't believe that Sarek would be happy about that, either. McCoy looked sad and shook his head. Vulcans viewed psychological exams as an indignity if done voluntarily, a disgrace if forced upon them, likened to being locked up in an insane asylum for a human-a questioning of their essence as a Vulcan.

Amanda sat down and looked expectant. Though they tried to soften the details, they told her everything. She looked vacant and numb, though she said she was fine. McCoy called Uhura to come spend time with her, and watch her. None of them wanted to burden Sarek with her reactions to all she had learned.

While they awaited Uhura, McCoy tried to head off another disaster. "Amanda, now that you know everything, well, I couldn't help overhearing about what you'd said to Jim about the Diplomatic Corps."

Amanda looked up at him. "Already marshalling your defense of him?" She didn't sound angry, but she eyed the doctor and then Kirk with suspicion nonetheless. "Had my husband the faculties for it since…his injuries… I would think he'd been lobbying all of you, or is it his soft-spoken nature and vulnerability now that garners all of this sympathy?"

McCoy looked saddened. "No, it's not my business, I admit that. I just hoped that you would let Sarek recover before laying that on him."

Amanda almost smiled. "I love my husband too much to hurt him when he's down. I'll wait until he's formidable again before starting that round. You see, Doctor, both my husband and I are wolves in sheep's clothing, and we each would protect the other to the bitter end. Do you not think he would be this aggressive, if not more so, if he thought my life depended on it?" She arched an eyebrow at them, so like her husband did that it took some of the sting away.

After the short, truncated blowout at Sarek on the journey to Babel after his and their son's teasing of her, Kirk had realized she was no shrinking violet, but he didn't realize she was such a force to be reckoned with. Kirk smiled but felt unnerved by the boxing metaphors and the realization that this woman was formidable herself and could be calculating, even ruthless.

It made him respect Sarek even more to fathom that they had made it through forty years together. To think Kirk had first thought of her as only a trophy wife unveiled a shocking dichotomy. He wondered how many underestimated her, and how many paid dearly for that mistake. He wasn't surprised by the fact that Sarek generally referred to himself and his wife as a diplomatic team.

**End of Chapter Three** (Chapter Four coming soon!)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four **

Sarek slipped into a healing trance for several days after arriving in sickbay. He was asked about constantly, and had frequent visitors though still unconscious. Amanda would read to him and hold his hand as she watched him. Uhura would play the lyrette and sing to him. Most simply walked in and out in hopes that he might have just awakened to the point that McCoy put up a sign on the outer door saying 'No, he's not awake yet. Go away!'

When Kirk first heard that Sarek had awakened from the healing trance, he felt anxious. He wasn't quite sure how Sarek would react to him or, in fact, how he would react to Sarek.

He realized that more than a few hours had passed since he had meant to visit him and felt even more guilty and uncomfortable about their now delayed first meeting. He realized it would only get worse, so he forced himself to go, deciding that he would only stay a short time.

To prepare Kirk, McCoy had mentioned that it would still be a long road before Sarek was even close to his old self, but that he seemed anxious to interact and get about, though he was nowhere near alert or mobile yet. The healing trance had been far less effective than it should have been due to the head injury; however, the signs were good that he might regain all that he had lost with time. There were, of course, no guarantees.

When Kirk entered sickbay, he was shocked when he saw the doped up, stiff and wobbly Sarek trying to stand for the first time with the help of his wife and McCoy. It would almost have been amusing, except for the events that precipitated it, though Sarek seemed actually to be enjoying the absurdity of the situation.

He sat on the edge of the bed, looking half-asleep still, and exhausted already. He swayed a little and tried to lay back down but McCoy refused to let him and pulled his arm over his shoulder.

"This does not seem like a good idea," Sarek whispered.

Kirk froze at the bare whisper Sarek could still only manage.

Amanda spotted him hovering in the door and waved him in. "Captain, could you help us? Sarek is concerned that we can't support him."

Kirk flushed at being caught at the door, then tried to cover by immediately stepping in to take Sarek's arm from Amanda. Sarek still looked reticent as he edged off the bed.

"Just try to balance your weight for as long as you can," McCoy said in an encouraging tone.

"If I don't land on my face, I will consider this a success," Sarek quipped in his whisper-croak.

Kirk couldn't help but smile as he tried to avoid pressing into Sarek's back injuries by gripping his other side. Sarek tensed immediately and Kirk couldn't be sure if it was from his touch, or readying himself for a possible crash to the floor. He felt Sarek attempting his balance even sitting up, leaning the wrong way often enough that McCoy and he had to compensate against him back and forth.

One slippered foot landed on the floor, then the second and he attempted to steady himself. "Is this sufficient? " Sarek asked.

McCoy shook his head. "The sooner you can stand, the sooner you can walk and then escape to the observation deck or the shower, your two favorite places to run to from sickbay it seems." McCoy grinned at unfurling the tidbit he had learned.

"Actually, there are three favorite places," Sarek said quietly. Amanda immediately started laughing and shot a dark look at her husband.

McCoy exchanged raised eyebrows for an uncomfortable smile from Kirk. "I don't even want to imagine," McCoy said.

Sarek seemed to lean back and forth between them and Kirk had to wonder if his lack of balance was due to his head injury, the asphyxiation, or simply his leg muscles needing to rememorize the process of balancing his body. But after a matter of moments, Sarek's legs started to shake and he and McCoy lifted him back on the bed and leaned him back on the pillow, where he promptly fell asleep.

Amanda smiled at her husband as she retrieved the blanket and covered him. She tucked the covers about his neck, gently caressed the edges of his hair, and softly kissed his lips and sat watching him with adoration as she stroked his cheek. Her actions were such a contrast to her earlier unethical and immoral stripping of her husband's rights that Kirk and McCoy couldn't help but stare at the gentle intimacy toward him. Kirk motioned McCoy to the office for privacy.

Once they had closed the door, Kirk asked, "Is he going to be okay?"

McCoy's eyebrows rose. "In what respect? You saw what I saw."

"His balance?" Kirk said.

"Give him time to adjust. Head injuries can cause many different and divergent symptoms in a Vulcan. And part of that is likely his leg muscles coming back."

"He's making jokes," Kirk said.

"He made jokes before," McCoy replied.

"But after…?" Kirk didn't even want to finish.

"He's trying to come to terms with what has happened; we all have our different ways of coping. He's likely very confused as to how to deal with it, especially a man as reserved and private as Sarek. Amanda seems to be tuned into exactly what he needs, thankfully." McCoy thought about what he had just said, "excepting of course for his privacy and his self-determination."

Kirk ignored this last bit, trying to focus on Sarek's physical welfare first. "She acts like nothing's happened when she's around him."

"She looks him in the face and interacts with him. She shows him warmth and entertains him. I'd say that's exactly what he needs. He probably feels like a bug under glass the way people have already been tiptoeing around and watching him, and he's only been truly aware of it for a matter of hours."

Kirk blinked at the seeming indictment, unsure if it was general or aimed at him.

"Talk to him Jim, like you used to. You're probably as close to him as anyone on this ship besides his wife. Hell, play chess with him or bring him a donut and coffee like that time on the observation deck. He appreciated that. To be honest, Jim, with Sarek more than anyone, it seems it's the thought that counts."

Kirk pondered what McCoy said. He felt badly that his own discomfort seemed so obvious to others already. He wondered if Sarek picked up on it and Kirk felt even worse.

"He's still having trouble sleeping?" Kirk asked.

"Likely the middle of the night will be the worst of it, with no one around to tire him. He can't seem to concentrate long enough to read yet, though that's improving. I've brought him music discs and set up computer access, but the computer seems to tax his concentration and patience. From past experience with him, he'll get restless and stressed without even that and with his claustrophobia eating at him…" McCoy stared at him; the implication was obvious.

"Thanks!" Kirk said, then started off to gather some ideas, feeling hopeful and reenergized.

-ooOoo- 

At about 2:30 am, Kirk stepped back into sickbay with his arms full and piled all of his findings just outside the door, then retrieved two decafs with cream and two chocolate-covered glazed donuts. He knocked, heard the whispered "come in" and found Sarek playing an archaic computer game that looked like a game of tennis on a screen. He at least looked amused at Kirk's reaction.

"This is what I am reduced to for the time being, it appears," Sarek said.

Kirk smiled, but forced himself not to laugh, since he wasn't sure if it had been a joke, or just sad for what had been, and hopefully would soon again be, a brilliant and incredibly skilled man.

A little delayed, Sarek noticed what Kirk carried and looked almost pleased. "You have come to my rescue again with chocolate."

Kirk smiled, but had trouble meeting his eyes. He set one coffee and donut on the bed tray and put it where Sarek could reach it with ease.

"I fear the donut may be against the rules," Sarek said.

"I came prepared." Kirk whipped out a knife and diced Sarek's donut into tiny pieces. McCoy had mentioned that Sarek's esophagus would be too sensitive to all but liquids and tiny pieces that weren't rough or hard.

Sarek's eyes glistened and he cleared his throat though it did no good. "You continually surprise me, James."

Kirk felt his throat tighten at Sarek's reaction to Kirk's forethought. "I'm sorry about earlier."

Sarek looked Kirk in the eye when Kirk forced himself to meet his gaze. "I don't understand."

"I was uncomfortable around you…" Kirk looked away and felt himself flush from the admission.

"I sensed as much," Sarek said. "I regret that they coerced you into helping me."

"I don't," Kirk said. "I felt there's been so little I could do for you, here and…down there."

"Knowing you, James, you did whatever you could. And, likely more than most would have thought of. I hear I owe you my life, again it would seem."

Kirk felt his eyes tear and turned away.

"Have I offended you? If so, I did not mean to."

"No! I'm sorry." Kirk said, angry at not keeping his composure.

"I do not understand this need to act Vulcan when one is not," Sarek offered. "Some of my most cherished moments with my wife are those in which she is laughing."

This did not actually surprise Kirk; Sarek seemed to glow when she laughed. He was surprised that Sarek had admitted that though.

"I was hoping you had brought me something to distract me from my immobility and sluggish wits." Sarek had changed the subject for Kirk's comfort, he realized, and given him something else to focus on besides their mutual misery. It seemed that Sarek hadn't lost his innate skills and sensitivity that took him so far in diplomacy.

Kirk stepped out and retrieved the 3-dimensional chess set, and Sarek did not look pleased.

"That is something I would have expected of my son," Sarek said. "It is rather like bringing a trapeze to a man with a broken arm, is it not?"

Kirk smiled. "I thought so, too. So I improvised." He stepped out and picked up a large armful of boxes that Sarek stared at curiously. "I think the time is nigh to rebuild those synapses, sir."

"It is good to hear someone actually talk of my injuries in other than diagnostic terms," Sarek said with almost a smile. He looked more relaxed now that Kirk had broached the subject.

"We can talk all you want of them, sir. Or of your experiences." Kirk swallowed, but felt a dam of apprehension burst within him. He wanted to help this man he had grown to care for. And, damnit, he'd work past this discomfort that had been wedged between their infancy of a friendship.

Now Sarek looked away. "I would like that, James, but with time, perhaps. I do not want to lose the fragile connection we have between us."

Kirk had never felt so protective of him. "You won't, Sarek. That's the last thing you need to worry about."

Sarek suddenly appeared to remember the coffee and donut and started to reach for the coffee. "This may not be elegant, "he said.

Kirk reached out. "Let me help." Sarek allowed him to add his stable hand to Sarek's less-coordinated ones.

After finishing their coffee and donuts in more comfort than Kirk had imagined, he pulled some of the boxes open.

"First, we shall begin by rebuilding your hand-eye coordination." He pulled out several little cups and plastic discs on the small table next to the bed. "Welcome to the time-honored challenge of Tidily-Winks!"

Sarek raised an eyebrow.

Kirk set out several small plastic disks of various colors and sizes and little cups. He attempted an example by pressing a larger disk against a smaller and it gained just enough momentum to barely slip the few inches across the table to fall to the floor.

They both stared at the floor momentarily. Sarek raised the other eyebrow. "I believe that would not be the example I would glean much from with respect to the goal you had in mind."

Kirk stared at Sarek, attempting to determine if he were being teased.

"Let me attempt this," Sarek said. "I think I surmise your purpose." He collected the little disks and cup from Kirk and transferred them to his bed tray.

Kirk stared at Sarek's precise placing and manipulation of the disks, as if it were some great experiment, then sighed loudly in impatience.

Sarek gave him a long, blank stare, then continued his slight adjustments, when finally he pressed the disk, it snapped and flew into Kirk's forehead with an audible slap.

Kirk held his hand to his head, but didn't appear to be in pain.

Sarek pressed his lips together a moment. "Forgive me," he said. "That was not my intention."

Kirk laughed finally at how ridiculous they must look.

Sarek looked relieved and pleased at Kirk laughing.

"How about SpongeBall, instead?" Kirk asked. He waved at the uncooperative game pieces. "You can practice those on your own time."

But as he looked back at Sarek, he noticed his eyelids drooping, and Sarek fighting it.

Kirk put the small crate of SpongeBalls within Sarek's reach as his eyelids slid closed and fastened the hoop near the entrance to the private room-the furthest point away.

As he started to leave, however, he heard Sarek. "James?"

"You need your rest," Kirk said with a smile.

Sarek looked a bit dismayed. "We have many more games..."

"I have a standing appointment with you at 2:30 a.m. every morning, but will stop by during the day and evening when I can."

Sarek looked content with this and his eyes slipped closed.

Kirk stepped out pleased with his reconnection with Sarek, but concerned at how the man withdrew from the discussion of what occurred on the planet.

-ooOoo-

Kirk had spent the day on the bridge noticing Spock avoiding his gaze and wondering why. He had dug into a personal area, but for a very good reason-a son should be there for his father, and his father needed him. He had waited for Spock to approach him and decided that he would push Spock if his first officer tried to avoid the issue.

When the door buzzed and he said "come in", he was surprised, but pleasantly so, to find Spock standing inside his door.

"Good evening, Spock," Kirk said.

"And to you, sir."

Kirk eyed Spock warily. "So formal. Are we about to have a fight?"

"An argument, you mean," Spock corrected. "On Vulcan, we would call it a discussion or debate and find merit in it."

"So, growing up, you had many discussions and debates with your father, and found merit in them?" He smiled at Spock's discomfort.

"In a discussion or debate there is more to be said by one side than 'Yes, Father', repeatedly."

That surprised Kirk. He looked at Spock closely, wondering if he realized how much he had just given away. "Jesus, Spock, it's been, what, well over twenty years now. You're still so angry."

"It does not require anger to point out a discrepancy in your logic."

"But if you were still angry, hypothetically," he grinned in a patronizing way Spock couldn't have missed, "don't you think that would cloud your judgment of how you see your father and what he might need? Especially from you?"

Spock stared at Kirk, then dropped his gaze. "I have come to tell you that I will consider further what you said, and that perhaps there might be some truth in it."

Kirk's eyebrows rose at that. He hadn't thought it'd be this easy. Perhaps the sympathy for his father had seeped in to soften his judgments and salve his anger.

"I have spent little time with him since I was seventeen. We separated on unfortunate terms. I may need to reevaluate my view of him."

Kirk smiled. "That's all I ask. It seems he's got plenty of time for you to get reacquainted."

Spock looked a little disconcerted at the thought of it. Change could be good, but it could also be scary after so many years of possible misunderstanding.

"There is another concern I had," Kirk said. "Just how well do you really know your mother?"

Spock's face softened. "Specify."

Kirk asked Spock to sit while he poured himself another drink. "Your mother mentioned that she would-let me quote her here-'make him quit the Diplomatic Corps.'"

Spock's eyebrows rose. "She is an emotional woman. She will get past this upset to think clearly again. It seems a cycle with humans."

Kirk ignored the seeming insult to the human race. Since he had included his own mother in the generalization, he likely didn't imply any criticism. "There's much more to it."

Spock looked bothered by the direction of the conversation, but he looked expectant.

"I got the impression she could do it."

Spock stared, a haunted look took hold of him then slipped away as suddenly. "There is little, if anything, my father would refuse my mother."

"I got the impression that your father wouldn't need to agree."

Spock's head snapped up at that. "My mother is a devoted wife." But the line felt stilted, as if there were more Spock would rather not consider.

"But could she?" Kirk asked.

"She is not that kind of woman," Spock said coldly.

"You deliberately misheard me, Spock. I didn't ask if she 'would', but if she 'could'." It appeared to Kirk that Spock wasn't aware of any wrongdoing of his mother with regard to Sarek's privacy or self-determination, but it appeared that he feared such, and this seemed to upset Spock's apple cart. He'd considered that he might not know his father well enough, but his mother he felt much closer to. She'd always been the one he could believe in and trust.

Kirk decided it was time for the coup de grace. "She has requested all evidentiary and documentation holos taken, both public and confidential. She's not asking your father's permission."

"Mother would not do that," Spock said, but his voice was bit unsteady.

"She also requested a full psychological examination of him, and full disclosure of the results."

This hit Spock hard; he closed his eyes momentarily. He looked a little disoriented at the possibility. "If this is so, then she has changed. I have to believe she said this out of anger or upset."

Kirk softened his tone. "I think she is desperate and terrified of losing your father. I don't think she wants to hurt him, or even control him. I don't think she ever really recovered from his emergency heart surgery and the gamble he took by attending the Babel conference."

Spock looked unsettled by the idea. "I will talk to her. I cannot believe that she would create a slave of him; she…respects…him too much." Kirk wondered if Spock had originally intended to say 'loves'.

Kirk added his final concern to the mix. "I would be as concerned with how your father might reciprocate, should she follow through on this. He cherishes her, but he's also a proud and independent man."

That brought a haunted look to Spock's eyes that he couldn't seem to dispel.

**End of Chapter Four** (Chapter Five coming soon!)


End file.
